


written in the stars

by the_amazing_gladerade



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Soulmate AU, Stiles Stilinski/ Lydia Martin - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2017-02-16
Packaged: 2018-09-24 22:37:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9790187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_amazing_gladerade/pseuds/the_amazing_gladerade
Summary: Lydia understood that not everyone took a calligraphy course like herself, but still....orLydia Martin is really tired of her soulmates awful handwriting





	

**Author's Note:**

> Crappy little story I came up with at 3:30 this morning. If you guys like it then I will go back and edit and post more.

Lydia Martin is 13 years old when the writing first shows up. Slanted words with overlapping letters appear across the palm of her hand. 

She hates it. 

She hates it because he is Lydia Martin and Lydia Martin does not do soul mates. She refuses to belong to anybody and really, soulmates are just suggestions. 

 

Lydia is 13 and ½ when she becomes fed up with her soulmate. Everyday she wakes up to to terrible handwriting on the palm of her right hand. It's always a list. She can sometimes make out phrases like “call scott” and “finish math homework”. Perhaps if his handwriting was nicer, she would be less angered. Lydia understands that not everyone took a calligraphy course, like herself, but still. 

After she looks down in math class to find her entire palm and wrist covered in little notes to himself, she takes her dark purple pen and writes in her neat loopy writing on her left palm, stop.

He doesn't. 

Her stupid soul mate seems to have taken her note as a challenge. The writing doubled. On her palm, on her wrist. Doodles popped up on her ankles, Starwars quotes wrapped around her hips. Lydia wanted nothing more than to kill him when a drawing of Darth Vader tap dancing showed up on her shoulder. Once more the girl wrote on her arm, I’m serious. Stop drawing on me!

He does.

 

Lydia is 15 when she meets Jackson, who is tall and confident and doesn’t have a soul mate. He isn’t nice, but he is exactly who Lydia needs. The two of them get on like gasoline and a match, but he makes her feel pretty and she knows she is useful for something, even if that something is putting on a pretty smile and pretending she always wants it. 

She isn’t sure when the argument they were having starting escalating or when he got so dangerously close to her, but she does know that he has never laid a hand on her before and now she is alone in her room with a bruise on her face and a broken heart and Jackson's last words ringing through her head. “It’s time to drop some dead weight.”

 

She barely notices the writing on her ankles, but when she does she has a hard time holding back a smile. What do you call a cold lizard? Then under it, A BLIZZARD

Lydia rolled her eyes and wrote on her calf, That makes zero sense

 

It's a joke. Doesn’t have to make sense.

Lydia doesn’t reply, but she feels lighter. 

 

Lydia is 16 when she meets him. 

Standing in line at the local coffee shop, she steps up to the counter, where a skinny boy with dark hair, whiskey colored eyes and a nametag that reads Stiles. 

Lydia briefly wonders what the hell a Stiles is, before rattling off her long and complicated coffee order, barely making eye contact with the boy. When she is done, she gives the boy her name and walks to the end of the counter and waits. 

A minute later she hears the boy, Stiles, call out her name and she takes her coffee out of her hand without giving him a second glance. 

It’s only when she is out of the shop and halfway down the street that she realizes the handwriting on her cup is shockingly familiar. Slanted with overlapping letters, her name is spelled across the cup in her soulmates handwriting and before she can even finish her thought she was walking back the way she came, determined to meet the boy with awful handwriting and nonsense jokes. 

Making her way to the counter, she leans across the wooden top and speaks to the boy who had taken her order earlier. “Could you tell me who wrote this?” She pointed to where her name was written . 

Stiles awkwardly rubs the back of his neck. “That would be me.” He said and Lydia felt herself freeze. Here he was. Her soulmate was standing in front of her staring at her with a somewhat frightened expression and everything she had planned on saying to him disappeared and the only thing she could think was he’s perfect. 

She opened her mouth and closed it and finally snapped “Your handwriting is terrible.” 

Stiles eyebrows drew together in confusion, but before he could reply Lydia was out the door, clutching her cup to her chest. She spared one last glance into the window of the shop before walking away, promising herself that she would never need him.


End file.
